Dreams
by luvduv2
Summary: Rachel and Jesse find out that they're actually Wendla and Melchior reincarnated. Sorry if it's terrible my first fanfic ever :  Will def write some more chapters! please review! I don't own spring awakening, sadly. :  lol
1. Chapter 1

She saunterd down the street, arm in arm with her mother.

"What part of town is this?" She asked inquisitively. Her mother gave her a sad, tear filled look. All of a sudden, she felt a pain in her stomach. She needed to vomit immediately. Before she could say anything, her mother was at the door of an older woman with a determined look in her eyes.

"Mrs. Bergman, I'll take her now."

She felt the tears of confusion chasing her. There was someone tugging at her, pulling her into the house. She clawed at the door, screaming and crying. It was no use. Before she knew it, she was being strapped to a bed, with a cloth of something being shoved into her face.

"Go to sleep now, sweetie."

Rachel Berry woke with a start, clawing at her stomach, which, for some reason, she felt intent on protecting if it cost her her own life. She laughed a little at this recurring dream: They could be so funny sometimes, couldn't they? The one thing that perturbed her was that this was the fourth night in a row that she had had this dream. And almost every time, she felt like she needed to call out to someone. But it was a strange name, and didn't roll off of tongue like something like "Finn." She thought, smiling to herself. It was "Melchior", or something like that. Something foreign, she was sure of that. She laid in bed for another moment, thinking over what took place in the dream. Eventually, she figured that it was an emotion to take with her, and possibly sing a song about it in Glee Club that day.

"I hear dreams can tell the future. Maybe something like that will happen to you one day." Finn said at the library. Rachel laughed at his obvious confusion.

"Finn, I don't have a mother. How is something like that supposed to happen to me when I was walking with my mother in the dream?"

"I don't know, Rachel. It's just…You've been droning on and on about this dream for days, but you can't understand it. Maybe it's symbolic or something…Maybe it's something out of _Inception." _

Rachel shook her head. "It's more than that. It's like I'm really there, everything is so terrifying and I just want to be with someone….But he's not around." Finn looked down.

"If that has anything to do with me-"

'Shut up." Rachel snapped. She had seen a boy for a brief moment…A boy who looked so familiar, but she couldn't remember his name. She got up from her seat at the library table, leaving Finn looking dejected and completely lost. He called after her, but it seemed distant, almost as if he had completely disappeared, leaving nothing but the echo of his voice.

Rachel finally found the boy she was looking for. His name was Jesse St. James, and she knew him from when she went to see Vocal Adrenaline perform. He was talented, as much as she was, if not more. He smiled at her from across the room. She felt her feet moving involuntarily towards him.

"You're Jesse St. James. You're in Vocal Adrenaline!" She said, a grin widening on her face.

"And you're Rachel Berry." He said, a small smile starting on his. He moved his hand towards her, and she accepted the handshake. The moment she did so, she felt her stomach fall to the floor as she saw him once again, but with a different hairstyle, and his clothes were…from some time in the past.

It was over in a flash. Within a millisecond, everything was back to normal, and all she could look at was herself and Jesse's hand, enclosed in one another's for what felt like the millionth time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Guys-**

**Thank You SO MUCH for the AMAZING reviews...Glad that you like it so much! Here's the 2nd chapter...I'll write at least a couple more, but I'm not quite sure how to end it...I may make it sad and tragic, like in the musical, or just a tiny bit sad, like in the show...lmk what you guys think :)**

Rachel couldn't sleep at all that night. Something had happened when she had touched Jesse's hand- She just knew it. Whether she was crazy or not, seeing that boy again was the only thing she cared about right now. She had nearly forgotten about her never ending quest to win Finn, for it would have to be postponed for now.

She heard her phone ring. She walked from her bed to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hi, Rachel?"

Rachel's heart began pounding. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "Oh, hi, Jesse."

"I know that it's like, five in the morning, but I was just wondering…Do you want to get coffee today after school?"

She knew she was grinning from ear to ear. She couldn't help it. But she needed to play hard to get, if she wanted him to be interested. "Um…I have Glee Club, but some other time would be great."

"Oh, okay." He sounded slightly disappointed. "So do I, actually. But…I would be willing to miss practice if you are."

Rachel bit her lip. Mr. Schuster wouldn't be happy that she was skipping rehearsal to have a date with the opposing team, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "Alright."

She could almost imagine his smile. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow." She hung up, her grin still fixed on her face. There was nothing strange about it, she convinced herself. Jesse St. James, and incredibly talented young man was simply asking her on a date. She told herself this time and time again, yet she still felt that strange attraction, as if she already _knew_ the boy she had met only once.

Rachel had arrived at the shop ten minutes early, afraid to miss him. When he finally did show up, and sat down at the coffee table, Rachel felt herself a little shyer than usual. A little quieter. Part of her just wanted to stop talking just so that she could stare at him. After a conversation on many trivial things, Jesse stopped and glanced at his phone.

"Oh God! I have to go."

Rachel felt a twinge of sadness, and noticed how much she had been smiling when she realized that her face actually hurt when it fell into a frown.

"Where are you going?"

"Downtown to the old folks home. I visit an old German woman as part of my community service."

"Can I come?"

For a moment, Jesse seemed apprehensive. Then he nodded. "Okay. I'm warning you, though, she's beginning to lose her mind."

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked a little uncertain.

"Well, sometimes she forgets my name, and just calls me _Melchior. _It's weird_."_

Melchior. Where had she head that name before?

They reached the woman's room at the retirement home within twenty minutes. Rachel was a little nervous upon walking in, but Jesse told her there was nothing to be afraid of. When they walked in, for some reason, the old woman seemed shocked. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were practically popping out of her head. It made Rachel uncomfortable.

"Rachel, meet Daniela Bergmann."

The old woman, who still seemed to be in shock, could only muster out one single word when looking at Rachel.

"Wendla?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks again for the great reviews, guys, and I tried to cover up any possible plot holes, and I know that based on how old she is, Daniela should be, like, dead, lol, but I needed to push the story forward. Thanks!**

It took quite a long while to calm the old woman down, and for a rather long time, she couldn't look at Rachel without shuddering.

"Ms. Bergmann, my name is Rachel, not Wendla."

Daniela slowly laughed to herself. "Of course you are, darling. Forgive me."

"Who…who is Wendla?" Rachel heard herself say, as if she hadn't spoken the words.

Daniela looked as if she was about to tell a story that she hadn't thought about in years, and was reluctant to revisit it. But she eventually sighed, and began to speak.

"I never _knew _Wendla, per say. I was…I was born into a broken family, Ms. Rachel. By the time I was born, my father had left me, my two sisters, and my mother, Ina, all alone. I never even knew his name. We were forced to live with my grandmother, who time had turned into a bitter woman. She was cool and distant with my family, especially me. She refused to look me in the eyes whenever we spoke. I was never told why, but there was an unspoken barrier between the rest of my family and I.

In my house, my room was next to a door that was always locked. It was never explained what it was, but it was always at the top of my list to find out what was in there. One day, when I was around six, my mother and grandmother were out shopping, my sister and I broke into the room. It was a bedroom, but it had turned into a shrine. A bed, with perfectly arranged pillows, clothing in the closet. But there were portraits all over the place, of a young girl, around your age, professionally painted, and beautiful. She had the sweetest smile, it seemed from the pictures. I saw that, in the corner, was a writing sample that seemed to be from a very, very young school girl, that said, in scribbled letters, "My name is Wendla Bergmann." As naive as I was, I thought that this was the girl my grandmother wanted, not Daniela, but Wendla. So, I did the worst thing imaginable. I found a small, white dress in the closet, and put it on. When my grandmother and mother came into the house, I shouted,

"My name is Wendla Bergmann!" I expected my grandmother's cold face to turn into a warmhearted smile, I wanted her to welcome me into her arms, and tell me that I was the best granddaughter in the world. I didn't expect her to slap me.

"You wicked, evil girl!" She yelled at me. "Every time I look at you, I see her! Do you think that this is funny? Torturing me with the daughter I once had!" She then broke down crying and I sprinted up to my room.

It was ten years before I gathered the bravery to speak of Wendla again. When I did, it was after my grandmother had passed, leaving me out of the will. It's actually why I eventually changed my name to Bergmann. To spite her, I suppose. I asked my mother about her, and she, afraid to make mistakes similar to her own parents, told me the story of how a young girl, my aunt, who would be a freshman in high school in today's standards, was beaten, manipulated, and impregnated by the horrible Melchior Gabor, a boy who had destroyed her. She was killed when her mother, my grandmother, tried to help the situation by getting rid of the unwanted baby.

I was horrified by this story, and vowed to find Melchior Gabor, and let him know how much his little "deeds" had affected my family. Through some connections, I found that he was still living in the town, so I walked over to the nice little house. When I knocked, a woman answered, Ilse Gabor, with her young son, Moritz. This made me even more furious, that the man had actually married and had children after what he did. I told Ilse that I needed to speak with her husband. She allowed me in, and eventually, the man himself came downstairs. When he saw me, he gave me a small smile, and asked who I was. I told him my name. The moment I said "Bergmann", his slight smile dropped, and his eyes filled with tears.

"Look," he said, trying to compose himself. "I have no idea what your family said about me, but I loved her. I honestly loved her, and what I did to her still haunts me to this day. I don't care how long I live, if there's even a heaven or hell, and wherever I go, or even, how many lives I live, I will never, ever, forget my love for her. Most of me is happy now, but part of me will never be until I see her again."

I had forgotten what I was going to tell him. Honestly, it didn't matter anymore. He knew exactly what he did, and he wasn't, as my family described, a monster, but a tortured man still looking for a girl who died years ago."

It was all silent. Until Jesse piped in, unable to keep quiet. "Do you have a picture of Wendla?'

"I certainly do. Melchior himself gave this to me."

It was a portrait or Melchior and Wendla, the lovers, smiling together, as the painter, whoever he was, delicately drew every detail on their face.

It was them.


End file.
